Suddenly the world looks very cruel.
If the Creation is to be taken as true, then God made just one mistake — he created woman (better known as girl, chic, female, or bitch in our male lingo. For the sake of standardization, we’ll call them just females. Bitches will refer to a particular class of females. Females reading this post should immediately press Ctrl+W for some interesting javascript effects).
If you’ve reached this line, you’re definitely a guy.
Classification
I would never have made such a chauvinist statement, say around three to four months ago. Of course there are a few idiots, I would claim, but you can’t generalize that to all females. Now a female lacking common sense doesn’t bother me as much as a bitching, pain-in-the-assing female. All females that I’ve met in the last few months have been bitches. I’ve lost all hope in female-kind.
I will now generalize, without proof.
All females are one or more of the following: a retard, a snob, or a bitch. Profound Fact 1.
I’ll give just one example. In The One with the Chatroom Logs, I had mentioned the involvement of a chic.
The Story of the Rediffbol Chic
Now here’s this female calling me one night asking me whether I have documentation for my Rediffbol plugin. Am not sure what made me happier — that somebody was actually interested in the code I had so painfully created, or that here was a chic who I have some chance to impress with my talent. (Of course, I thought in the long term too, she stayed in Vijayawada, not too far away … so easy to screw)
Miss interested-in-my-code-documentation turns out to be a Spammer Chic, without any idea of programming (I regret having used words like “doxygen” the first time she called). A first year B.Com students who posts Google Adsense ads to people on Rediffbol, who in turn click those ads, and she gets money. She claimed to have earned 7K that month. She gets the IDs from people who are logged into chatrooms. The scheme is brilliant: Google does not check Rediffbol for such adsense abusers. OTOH, [apparently, according to her] Google does keep track of Yahoo chatrooms.
Now with a mix of seduction and an offer of 5K INR, she convinces me to write a script to automate this task. I sort of partially did write it, and she wasn’t satisfied enough, so I sweetly said fuck off.
(This starts sounding more mafia like, once you know that the chic has a boyfriend, perhaps a king-pin in the business. Knowing that also reduces interest in continuing working for her.)
This bitch had actually called me on my mobile quite a few times, and we did chat some regular-life stuff. But the thing that made this female a bitch, was her irritating way of telling me: What’s taking you so long? I know you can do it in few minutes if you want to.
And that everytime she called me, even though she talked of life in general, eventually she would end up trying to convince me to work harder for her.
Bitch.
Its My Life.
Have you ever stopped and wondered whose life you’re living? You’re not living yours. Your interests are not yours. My interests are not mine. Now I wonder whether I like movies and books and even blogging, for what they are — or am I just doing that to look intelligent. Do I drink alcohol just to look cool — to be called a wine connoisseur, to be accepted among people? Am I going for my PhD just because everybody else is going. Is my taste of music and clothes dependent on what my roomie claims is to be in fashion? I am not sure myself. I make myself out to be this cool outgoing guy when I’m talking to girls — I’m not. When chatting with a male friend, I make myself out to be a guy who has a hundred lingeried women around him. Can I hear you calling me pathetic? I’m sure you’re the same. You’re as pathetic as me. I’m reminded of the Woody Allen movie, Zelig (there.. I did it again :/). We try to adapt to the people around us.
I will now confess the truth about the real me.
Just give me emacs and gcc and leave me on a deserted island and that would be my ideal life. Profound Fact 2: I’m a loser. But by writing this, I lose in style.
If you’re a girl and you’re reading this, I think my chances of impressing you have fallen by about 75%. Good.